


Even If It's Just In Your Wildest Dreams

by TheNumberFour



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Dream Sex, F/M, Pining, Pining Allura (Voltron), Wet Dream, force bond inspired, in which Allura regrets her decisions, in which I tell the writers the actual things the characters would realistically do, in which i write a compare/contrast essay on Lance and Lotor out of S7 Saltiness, salty? I'm not salty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-06-25 20:43:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15648600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNumberFour/pseuds/TheNumberFour
Summary: As Allura's relationship with Lance advances, she finds herself thinking more and more of Lotor.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, no, if you haven't seen S7, Allura and Lance DON'T get together, but it's seeming pretty likely. I've compiled a list of reasons, from Allura's point-of-view, why they are most likely not the most compatible couple.
> 
> ... and then it got a little steamy.

He wasn’t Lotor. It was a thought that occurred to her more times than she could count. Allura’s logic pointed out Lance as her best choice, so why was she thinking about Lotor? The man who’d killed their people for their quintessence?

The powerful cologne Lance wore made her nose itch. She had to ask him several times to tone it down, because she thought she may be allergic. It sent her into sneezing fits on more than one occasion. Once she asked in front of Pidge and Hunk, who then spent the rest of their day snickering to each other about how Lance habitually bathed in something called “Axe”. Allura wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, but it certainly sounded unpleasant and she hoped that he would break this habit as soon as possible if it was the very thing causing her such discomfort.

Lance also elected not to hold her hand, but instead throw an arm over her shoulder or around her waist wherever they went. Allura was more partial to holding tight to his elbow and utilizing the etiquette she was brought up with. She would tell him at times that she was feeling a bit claustrophobic, electing to politely leave out that his constant proximity was fueling the suffocation she was feeling increasingly often, and he would instead offer his hand for her to hold. The sensation of her hand in his was unnatural. It didn’t feel right. Nothing could compare to the sparks that shot though her fingertips when her hand was clasped in Lotor’s. Lotor had held her hand as if it was a bird he didn’t want to harm or frighten away. He was careful and respected her boundaries. Until he didn’t. But as things progressed with Lance, Allura found herself thinking less and less of that last-ditch effort Lotor had made to thread his fingers through hers. Instead she focused on the time after the rift, recalling the sight of his fingers curling so elegantly around her own smaller hand.

The conversation was sparse. More often than not, she would attempt to be interested in things that Lance enjoyed. He tended to watch Earthling sporting events on the television once the arenas and stadiums had been rebuilt and teams had been reestablished. Allura didn’t find it very mentally stimulating, and instead preferred to read books. He never seemed to pay attention whenever she gushed to him about a particularly good story, grumbling about how much he hated English class in school. Sometimes, when she was alone in the barracks she’d talk aloud to no one in particular about how Jane’s rejection of Mr. Darcy’s first proposal  was so satisfying, and yet so frustrating.

“Reminds me of someone I once knew,” a smooth, low tone would echo through her thoughts. In her mind, Lotor was always eager to hear more about her thoughts and feelings. In her mind, Lotor would value what she has to say. In reality, he was nowhere to be found.

She found herself longing to run her fingers through long hair during their kisses. Her fingers meeting bare skin at the nape of Lance’s neck created a pit of disappointment in her stomach. Their lips didn’t _fit_ right. There was no blissful rhythm to kissing. For the first months until she became more comfortable with it, she dreaded having to clamp her lips shut to keep Lance’s wandering tongue from prying them open. The concept of “French kissing”, as it was later explained to Allura, was slimy and off-putting. But she grew to a somewhat sour form of indifference.

Still, she caught herself thinking on more than one occasion, of the single, chaste kiss she and Lotor had shared in the Sincline ships’ hangar that day. The soft, gentle patience of the kiss was something she wished so deeply for. She avoided sharing a bed with Lance for fear that she’d murmur Lotor’s name in the night. She dreamt about him that often. Pidge, whose bed was stationed on the opposite wall, initially asked her about her nightmares. Allura was now starting to suspect that Pidge stopped asking after realizing the true nature of her dreams.

And with dreams like those, Pidge probably figured it all out pretty quickly.

Hopefully, Pidge wouldn’t be inclined to share her accurate hunch with Lance. But Allura wasn’t sure why the sultry voice in her head told her that the consequences of him knowing were insignificant. She was even less sure why she agreed.

She dreamed of his mouth, hot as it trailed down her neck. His tongue, winding sensually around her own, was tinged with the taste of the other areas it had lavished. And somehow, she didn’t mind the tongue kissing here, in her dreamscape. She had never seen the human or Galran male anatomy before, but she imagined that height wasn’t the only size advantage that Lotor had on Lance either. She remembered his claws, and pictured them raking down her body hard enough that she felt a delicious type of tingling pain, but gently enough not to wound. She could practically feel them scratching at her scalp as his fingers ran through her hair. They’d pinch into her hipbones, pulling her up and grinding her into his own groin. Just the mere thought of that delicious friction could jolt her awake.

“I’m coming,” was always what he whispered in her ear in the split second she transitioned from sleep to full consciousness. And though it contextually made sense, it sent a grim shiver down her spine, as if he was announcing his arrival at their base instead of his climax.

The last time she had that dream she’d awoken to a stinging sensation on her neck, just below her jaw. When she ran her fingers over the spot, she bolted upright and ran to the mirror on the opposite side of her barracks, needing to see if what she felt was the truth. There on her skin, reddened and raw, were the indentations of a fanged bite mark.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allura faces the aftermath of the realization that Lotor may be right on Voltron's heels as well as the possibility that her thoughts may not be her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed! I did manage to write out another chapter to continue on, so thanks so much to all the reviewers who encouraged me to continue. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

At that point, Allura wasn’t sure who to turn to. Coran was her first thought. She couldn’t care less about the embarrassment talking about the situation would cause. Coran knew a lot more about Altean tales and stories and rituals, but not the magic behind them. This wasn’t a ritual; it was an anomaly. And by all sensical means, it should not have been possible. The Lotor she was hearing in her mind may have been real. The bite on her neck was proof enough of that. The skin had since leveled out over time; not fully, but enough. Whatever entity had wounded her did not puncture it. The skin was still red, though, from her constant tracing of the grooves that had been left there.

“Allura?” Pidge murmured from across the room. “Is everything okay?”

Allura let out a squeak of surprise and whirled around.

“Of… of course!” Allura lied. Pidge sat up, rubbing her eyes, and grabbed her glasses from the bedside table. She narrowed her eyes at Allura once she could see her properly.

“No, it’s not.” Pidge said. Allura shook her head, about to reaffirm her lie, but Pidge continued before she could get a word out. “You’ve been moaning out Lotor’s name in your sleep for months now. And not out of fear or anger.” She made a face, quirking her lips and wrinkling her nose. “I won’t go into that. And I didn’t think much of it because I know that even though you’re with Lance now, Lotor was probably your first love as far as I know. That’s tough to get over. But now you’re genuinely shaken. Something happened, Allura.” Pidge really was too smart for her own good.

Allura sat down on Pidge’s bed, wringing her hands as she tried to gather the proper words. Pidge sat up straighter and crossed her legs under her, patiently waiting for Allura to be ready to speak.

“I have reason to believe that Lotor is alive.” She said, the words rushing out so quickly she hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath.

“I thought that the Altean in the mech was enough to deduce that much.” Pidge replied. The Altean in question was still healing in the medical wing, under the influence of a medically-induced coma. No one had been able to ask her any questions about her origins as of yet.

“Yes,” Allura said, “but he’s close. He’s coming here, and he’s close.” Allura sighed shakily before telling Pidge the truth. “I awoke with a bite on my neck today.”

Pidge put a hand up to stop Allura from continuing. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, _what?”_ Allura stood, walking over to sit by Pidge, gesturing to the darker, reddened patch of skin below her jawline. There were still faint marks there.

“What the…” Pidge whispered, leaning over to peer at the wound and running her own fingers over the fading mark.

Allura’s throat burned, along with her nose. Tears pricked at her eyes.

“I may be compromised, Pidge.” She said softly, voice breaking on the other girl’s name. The infallible warrior princess Allura had allowed a monster into her mind. “If the dreams were real…” Allura looked at her hands, picking at some loose skin on her thumbnail. “What other thoughts could he have gotten into?” Allura is horrified. Was she thinking of Lotor of her own volition or was he forcing his way into her mind? All those moments she felt exasperated with Lance, all those moments she longed to be in Lotor’s arms again… had he fabricated those? Had he placed those in her mind at strategic moments? How long had he been watching her? And how was any of it even possible?

“If that’s the case then we need to tell the team.” Pidge resolved. Allura but her lip and nodded. She didn’t want to, mostly out of embarrassment, but she knew it was vital information that the team needed to know.

The two girls got up, dressed in their orange and white regulation Garrison uniforms, and called an emergency meeting after gathering the necessary information to prove Allura’s story.

Shiro was the first to enter the conference room. He looked like he hadn’t slept much, but he didn’t seem particularly bothered by lack of rest. Keith, Krolia, and Kolivan were next, both looking like they’d stepped off of the training grounds instead of their barracks. Then came Coran, Romelle, and Lance, and then Hunk, all bleary-eyed and wondering what emergency would warrant a three AM meeting.

“We may have a lead on Lotor.” Pidge said, looking at Allura.

The princess sighed as everyone’s heads turned in her direction.

“For several months he’s been appearing in my nightmares.” And at this point she was sure they were nightmares, twisted and reshaped into lecherous dreams by the man in question. “And I’ve been hearing his voice in my head. I initially thought that,” she purposely avoided looking at Lance and tried to swallow down the lump that formed in her throat, “I hadn’t emotionally recovered from his departure. But now it’s entirely possible that he placed thoughts in my head that were not my own.”

“What happened to make you think it was real?” Lance said, his face somewhat stony at the revelation that Allura had been thinking about another man for the duration of their relationship. She wasn’t sure if Lance was solely angry with Lotor for this complication or at least partially upset with her for accepting it for so long.

“Pidge?” Allura prompted the younger girl, who pulled up an image she’d taken of the fading mark on Allura’s skin.

“It appeared when I awoke from one of my nightmares.” She said. “Pidge and I checked the security camera footage and no one entered or exited our barracks from either the door or the window.”

“And if he’s in my head, I think it may be best to remove myself from any further planning efforts while I work on fighting him off.” The group nodded.

 _You can’t fight me off._ Allura stiffened, and the group noticed it right away.

“Is he here?” Krolia asked. Allura nodded slowly. “Then you’re excused, princess.”

Allura bolted out of the room as soon as the words left Krolia’s mouth.

“Is that a threat, Lotor?” She asked aloud as she briskly walked through the halls. Anyone awake this early in the morning was probably on the training grounds, so there was no one around to look at her like she was insane.

_Absolutely not. Just a statement of fact. Unlike you calling our nightly romps ‘nightmares’._

“They _are_ nightmares.” She hissed. His low chuckle reverberates through her skull. “How are you doing this?”

_I’m not._

“Liar.”

_I’m being entirely truthful. As long as I’ve known you I’ve never told you a single lie._

“Lies by omission are still lies.”

 _You think so little of me. Destroying our people, placing thoughts that aren’t your own in your mind and now lying? What will you accuse me of next?_ She can detect sarcasm in the barb, as well as a hint of genuine hurt and exasperation, as if he was still dismayed and frustrated that she wouldn’t believe anything he said. _Why don’t you ask your little friend from the colony about lies by omission, princess?_

“Get _out_ of my head.” Allura snarled, her jaw clenching hard.

_I’ll gladly leave if that is what you wish. But first, you must stop inviting me in. I long for you far too much to refuse._

Allura paused, heart thumping in her chest at the revelation that he missed her. But… inviting him in? What did he mean by that?

 _I mean,_ Lotor clarified, and for a moment Allura felt foolish that she’d been speaking aloud the entire time, _that every time I have entered your mind in the past few months, it was because you were the one who called me there._


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allura's attempts at shielding her thoughts backfires.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello! Thank you all so much for reading this story and commenting and kudos...ing(?)! Coming back atcha with another chapter! Hope you guys like it!

In the days that followed, Allura refused to sleep. Instead, she drank the bitter brown liquid humans called “coffee” to keep herself awake. It was disgusting at first, and she had to load it up with cream and sugar, but the energetic effect it provided made it bearable before she eventually acquired the taste for it.

“Lance? Stop giving Allura coffee.” Pidge told her friend sternly, after noticing the tremors running through Allura’s hands.

“Would you rather I gave her a can of Monster?” Allura didn’t think that sounded pleasant. “Or a 5-Hour Energy? She’s gotta stay awake somehow.” Lance retorted. Allura knew he wasn’t keen on the idea that Lotor might enter her dreams. Neither was she, especially since, if Lotor was to be believed, she, or at least, her subconscious, was the one reaching out to him first.

“I slept for ten thousand deca-phoebs. I can handle a few weeks without sleep.” Allura said, taking another sip out of the warm paper cup in her hands.

“You can’t just keep avoiding him.” Pidge countered. “Allura needs to rest so she can find a way to shield herself from him.”

Allura sighed, swallowing the last of her coffee before crumpling the cup and tossing it in the nearby garbage can. “First I have to figure out a way to fight it. And I need to stay awake, research, and practice what I learn.”

Lance looked triumphantly at Pidge while the spectacled girl only looked worriedly at Allura. Allura pretended not to notice.

Allura took to meditating later that day. Coran had given her some advice on shielding her mind, but it was mostly information he’d heard from folktales and legend. Though he was no expert, he was still a wonderful coach. The knowledge she’d received in Oriande offered no conflicting information, so she decided to attempt the method he’d described. She began by envisioning a thick, substantial material with which she would build her barrier. Steel? No. Maybe Titanium. That would do. The titanium grew and shifted, forming into a massive fortification in her mind’s eye. She tried a few different ways to surround herself. It was hard to maintain more than one wall and bending it took more mental effort than she’d imagined a thought would take. It was even more difficult when blue and yellow flashed through her vision so often.

A few vargas later, she finally managed to create a barrier that felt real, strong enough to keep even Haggar out of her head. The look in her imagined Lotor’s eyes as his view was cut off by the rising cylinder of titanium perplexed her. She expected him to look angry, almost murderous at losing his plaything. Instead he looked sad, broken, and so utterly alone.

Her heart pounded triumphantly in her chest. That must have been him. And she must have been doing something right if he was upset in any manner about being closed off.

“Your fortress needs a roof.” The words come from a few feet in front of her. She opens her eyes to see Lotor sitting there, cross-legged just as she was.

His hair was pulled back, save for that one stray lock Allura had always been tempted to wrap around her finger. He was out of his armor, instead clad in dark grey trousers and a white, sleeveless tunic. This was new. He’d never physically appeared when she was awake before.

Unless she’d nodded off.

She rubbed her eyes and pinched her arm just to ensure she was conscious.

He sighs and rolls his eyes, a white eyebrow arching perfectly. “If you were asleep you’d be far more wanton right now.”

She made a disgusted sound in the back of her throat. “Excuse me?”

He merely shrugged, the muscles in his shoulders bunching and bringing attention to his torso. She averted her gaze up before she could even begin to stare at his trim frame.

“How close are you for me to be seeing you in person?”

“I’m fairly confident that disclosing my location would not be favorable for me, and would be rather useless to you.”

She narrowed her eyes, about to ask why he thought so, but he was one step ahead. She couldn’t understand how he was reading her inner thoughts like that, but she wasn’t about to practice on him to find out.

“You don’t believe anything I have to say. Not since the rift.” He explained simply. “And on the off chance you deigned to do so, I’m sure there would be a fleet on my doorstep as soon as possible. Suffice it to say I’m close enough. Though I haven’t traveled any closer since we last spoke, so I suspect that this bond, or whatever this connection may be, is only getting stronger.”

Allura was dismayed. That couldn’t be possible. She was trying to banish him from her mind, not invite him even further in.

“Why _is_ there a connection in the first place?” She asked.

“I was hoping you could tell me.” He replied. “You’re the one blessed with ancient Altean alchemical knowledge.” He didn’t say it bitterly as if he was jealous, but the sour tone of his voice leaned more toward wistfulness for better times. She _felt_ the emotion radiate off of him and had to catch herself from showing him that she’d begun to feel it as well.

Snippets of Oriande floated to the forefront of Allura’s mind, and she wasn’t sure if she was conjuring them or if Lotor was trying to broadcast them to her. The pink and purple cotton clouds, Lotor’s face, bathed in the rosy glow of the ancient land. Her heart skipped a beat. That was definitely her memory. One that was not hers mingled along with it. The fragment of the image stuck out like a loose thread, and before she could stop her own curiosity, she plucked at it. She was thrust headfirst into Lotor’s mind.

_“Allura?” She was his first concern when he awoke in the white lion’s domain. He wanted to know if she was alright. And if he had to defeat this lion to return to her, so be it. Victory or death._

She blinked, willing the images away and staring at him for a moment. If he knew what she’d seen, he didn’t show it. Instead he stared at her and waited patiently for an explanation.

“I – I’m afraid I don’t know.” She said.

There were a few moments of silence where she hoped he’d disappear. He didn’t. He was still there, cobalt eyes never looking away from her. His eyes betrayed no emotion, but in this moment she could feel his longing rolling from him in waves. She steeled herself against it. Nothing would make her give in to him again.

“Nothing?” Lotor asked, tilting his head, a wry grin spreading across his handsome face.

“Stop _doing_ that!” Allura huffed, glaring at him. How could he read her thoughts like that?

“You could do it too, if you tried.” He said, ignoring her words in favor of her next inner thought. It seemed like he hadn’t yet realized that she’d grabbed one of his memories from Oriande, and she preferred to keep it that way.

Absolutely not. “I’m not delving into your twisted mind, Lotor.” She snarled. “What shall I find there? The reasoning behind the merciless slaughter of my people?” She noticed him visibly wince at the implication that they were not _his_ people. Good. Then his expression turned to pure ice.

“I don’t suppose you asked Romelle for the truth about the second colony?” He asked, his jaw clenching with restrained fury. She could see his ungloved fingers flexing, claws sheathing and unsheathing. His tone was suspiciously calm, though she could sense the tension behind his words.

“Romelle gave me the truth from the start.”

“Is that what you tell yourself to mitigate your guilt at leaving me to die in the rift?”

Allura opened her mouth to whip another retort at him but she couldn’t find the words. Lotor’s words had slammed into her with frightening force.

“Think on it.” He said gruffly, fading out of view. She was almost inclined to reach out to drag him back before he disappeared. That was before the wave of relief flowed through her.

Allura bit her lip, almost hard enough to draw blood. Tears welled in her eyes and she stood quickly, stumbling out of the room.

She ran into something firm and warm. Lance, who had his hand poised to knock on the door, stumbled backwards, catching her in his arms and stabilizing them before they could tumble to the ground.

“Allura, what’s – ”

She grabbed either side of his face in her hands and kissed him before he could finish. Hard. He looked bewildered as she pushed him off her and stormed off down the hall, not bothering to share anything that had transpired between herself and Lotor beforehand.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's just say Allura's dreams are the wild ones in this story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I'm really on a roll with this story! Thank you all for the lovely reviews and support for this story!

Allura learned of the inconveniences the bond could cause in the following days. He’d appear across the table during the minor briefings she was allowed to go to. Those were the only meetings she was permitted to attend since she’d realized that her access to top secret information was now a security risk. And yet, when the connection opened, there he was, sitting across the room as if he’d been there the whole time. As if he was still a part of their alliance.

She didn’t speak to him. He didn’t attempt to draw her into conversation. He usually just stared. Allura made it a point to ignore any of his emotions that wandered her way. Sometimes, though, she couldn’t help but drink in the regret that emanated from him, the longing that he felt. She was glad he felt them. He _deserved_ to feel upset about what he’d caused. And when she began to feel her own regret bubble to the surface of her mind, she opted to leave the room. Lotor never tried to follow after her.

Members of the Garrison as well as Allura’s own team were getting used to the increasingly erratic manner of Allura’s comings and goings. They knew to clear out a room if she entered looking frazzled. They made notes on what they intended to ask or tell her later on if she happened to stand and leave in the middle of a sentence. Everyone seemed to understand the gravity of Allura’s mental situation.

Everyone except Lance.

Pidge had to rope Sam and Matt into an intervention, to prevent Lance from providing Allura with any more caffeine. However, they didn’t account for him teaching her to brew coffee herself and were forced to resort to another strategy to get Allura to sleep: removing her access to coffee completely. The machines and the coffee itself were placed in storerooms to which only Allura’s security clearance was limited (and Lance’s too, for good measure).

The exhaustion was catching up to Allura. There was a pounding in her head that refused to leave. Usually, the coffee managed to drive it away, but she’d been left in the lurch. Lance smuggled in chocolates to nibble on, telling her that they also contained a bit of caffeine, but she found it just wasn’t enough. The sugar provided a short burst of energy but no relief from her throbbing headache and creeping exhaustion.

She decided to take a shower. It would hopefully soothe her nerves before she had to inevitably face sleep again.

The communal showers were empty. That was their usual state in the middle of the day, and saw their most active hours in the morning and the evening. She folded her Garrison uniform neatly on the bench outside her shower stall of choice, hanging her towel on the hook beside the cream white and tangerine shower  curtain. With a squeak of the knobs, the spray turned on full blast.

The relief was almost instantaneous, and she let out a sigh. Her head still throbbed, but the tension was beginning to drain from her skull, down her neck, and to her shoulders. The spray did wonders in relieving those knots.

A wave of exhaustion hit when she rinsed the conditioner from her hair. She allowed herself a single yawn, and soon after the idea occurred to her to sit on the floor and relax under the spray for a little while. She wished they were still in the Castle of Lions. A long soak in her own tub would be ideal, but she would have to get used to showers now that the castle, and the tub along with it, was destroyed.

When Allura pressed her head back against the wall to remember the scented oils, the plethora of soaps and lotions, the crystal clear water… Soon enough, she was fast asleep.

The first thing she heard in her dreamscape was a choked gasp. She turned to see Lotor, wide-eyed and dismayed at the sight of her. His lower half was obscured by a large table, possibly a desk. That was all she could see of his surroundings.

Allura looked down at her own body, still wet and gleaming from the shower. A part of her wanted to curl in on itself to cover these private portions of her body on display to her enemy. But a larger part of her wanted him. She _needed him_. He was still gaping, still clearly not recovered from the vision of a water nymph appearing in his office, or wherever he presently was located.

She fluttered her eyelashes, a corner of her lips quirking upward. Her mind screamed at her not to move any further, to stop betraying her team this way.

“You’re asleep, aren’t you?” Lotor asked, still in awe. Allura only responded by taking a few steps forward. He stood abruptly, entranced by her appearance.

“I don’t usually take you by surprise, do I?” Allura said. She scanned down his frame to find exactly what she was looking for: the quickly-growing bulge warping the pelvic region of his trousers. She smiled again and bit her lip before drawing closer to him.

“You’ve made it abundantly clear in your waking moments that you do not wish for – uhn!” He was cut off when her hand snaked down to trace over his bulge, leaving rivulets of water to run from his pelvis down his legs. His chin jutted upwards, exposing his sharp jawline and slender neck. She desperately wanted to suckle on that spot right below his ear.

“I thought I was making what I wish now _abundantly clear.”_ She purred, grabbing his sizable, currently-gloved hands and placing one on her breast and the other at the apex of her thighs. He was frozen where he stood. His fingers didn’t move, and she wanted them to so desperately. She grabbed at that loose thread in his mind and unraveled his thoughts. _He wants this, oh stars, he does_.

“Then take it, Lotor. Take _me.”_ She stands on her tiptoes, pressing a line of kisses down his jaw.

“ALLURA!” She hears, just before she’s about to claim Lotor’s lips with her own. She opens her eyes to see Pidge hurrying to twist the shower knobs off. A pair of strong arms wraps her in a towel – Shiro. Shiro lifts her up, cradling her head with his good arm and her legs with the prosthetic.

“I’m afraid I nodded off.” Allura grumbled.

“We know,” Shiro replied, and she felt his chest rumble at her shoulder as he said it, “and we hoped you’d take a nap in the bed and not in the _showers_ , but I think I can speak for most of us when I say that we’re glad to know you’re getting some rest again.”

Allura wasn’t. Her dream rushed back to her vividly. She’d tried to seduce Lotor. _She_ had been the instigator.

His words from the first time he’d appeared in her waking hours rang true. _If you were asleep you’d be far more wanton right now._ And he’d been right. Shiro set her down now that she had proven to be awake and alright. He’d probably been summoned to transport her to the infirmary if that wasn’t the case.

Allura began to dress in her Garrison-issue uniform, still groggy, when the younger girl spoke up.

“You we’re making those sounds again, Allura.” Pidge said quietly. “The ones you made in your sleep. Is he – ”

Allura sat on one of the low benches, squeezing the excess moisture from her hair into her towel. “He… no. It – it was me.” Pidge’s silence prompted her to go on.

“I’m not sure how in control Lotor is when he sleeps, but I know that I cannot control my subconscious when I’m asleep. I don’t know why that is. Our relationship is done. And yet…”

“You miss him.” Pidge finished for her. It was a reality she tried to shove down to the depths of her mind, but it was true. She did miss him. She missed him more than anything.

“I think I do, yes.” Allura sighed. “Not just the short-lived peace between the Galra Empire and the Voltron coalition, but _him._ But this is a war. He made his choices. He killed my people for in cold blood. I shouldn’t miss him like I do. And Lance…” She trailed off, not wanting to go into detail about how she felt about Lance.

Lance was a complication. He cared for her, and laughed at her jokes, and told her she was pretty. It was something she really needed after the heartbreak. He took those pieces of her shattered heart and managed to put a lot of them back together. He was just… _safe._

But in being safe, Lance tended to _overprotect_ her. He tried too hard to keep her out of harm’s way that he failed to realize that she was a warrior herself. She was his teammate, his comrade, his _friend_. Those things couldn’t be separated in Lance’s eyes. Lance needed someone who needed him just as much. And of course Allura _needed_ him; he was her friend. She needed Hunk, Pidge, Keith, and Shiro just as much. But Allura didn’t require a knight in shining armor.

“I know.” Pidge said simply. Those words held all the understanding in the world. Allura didn’t doubt at all that Pidge knew exactly how she felt. “If you’d like I can try to make something to help you with lucid dreaming.”

Allura looked at her questioningly. She believed that she understood the terminology Pidge used through context, but she wasn’t positive.

Pidge clarified, “Oh, it’s when you’re dreaming but you’re entirely aware of what’s happening. You’re more in control.”

Allura nodded. “Indeed. That would be most helpful to this situation.”

The girls sat in silence while Pidge retrieved a notebook from her backpack beside her and started sketching out plans.

“Can I have coffee in the meantime?” The princess tried, jutting her lip out and batting her doe eyes hopefully.

“No.” Pidge deadpanned, not even looking up from her work.

“But Lotor –”

“You still need to practice defending yourself. I’m building the lucid dreaming machine as a failsafe if it doesn’t work. Until then, we can monitor you while you’re asleep.”

Allura sighed, not feeling confident about facing Lotor again after the stunt her subconscious self had pulled this afternoon. “Alright.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Leave a comment if you liked this chapter! I’d love to hear what you thought!
> 
> Follow me on tumblr if you want to fangirl about lotura or other stuff! @thenumberfour


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allura begins to understand where things went wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas everyone! Here's a short little update for you all, since S8 really supplied me with some great in-spite-ration and this story is surprisingly the only one of my multichapter fics closest to canon. Hope you guys enjoy!
> 
> Side note: I've also got an update for Pray For The Wicked planned as inspiration picked up for that as well, so if you're following that, keep an eye out! :)

“Are all these wires necessary?” Allura asked Pidge from the bed where she lay. “I feel like one of those Earth insects trapped by… oh, what did you call it…” She struggled for the word.

“Spider?” Pidge suggested, not looking up from tapping away at her laptop keyboard.

“That’s the one!” The princess exclaimed, sounding far more awake than she felt.

“Yes, they’re necessary. Couldn’t go wireless with the materials I had on hand.” Pidge said. Allura’s head was covered in sticky patches, each attached to a wire that connected to a device on Pidge’s computer. The plan was to monitor Allura’s brainwave activity. If it spiked unfavorably while she slept, Pidge would try to send over a mild pulse of electricity to wake her. Allura was worried by this solution at first, but Pidge made sure to test it out while the princess was conscious. The electricity felt like nothing more than a tingling caress through the pads connected to her abdomen.

Pidge’s laptop pinged, and the girl gave Allura a reassuring grin and a thumbs-up. “Sweet dreams, Allura! I’ll be here to pull you out of any sticky situations.”

After about a half-hour of fidgeting due to nervousness at what she would face, Allura finally fell into a deep sleep.  

Lotor was waiting for her when she returned. He looked different. He was more undressed than he’d been earlier, in the same light tunic she’d seen him in during her meditation session. His loose pants were slung low on his hips, and in the gap between the hem of his shirt and the waistline of his pants, she saw the hard lines of his hipbones descending in a ‘V’, the apex of which was hidden beneath the trousers.

She felt more in control this time around, so whatever Pidge was doing was clearly working. Stars knew what she would try if it wasn't, with him looking the way he did now.

“What, no warm greeting for me this time around?” Lotor asked, his tone teasing despite the note of wariness Allura noted emanating from him.

“No.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Though I suppose I should show at least a little gratitude for refusing my subconscious advances.” She added.

“Once I was made aware of the amount of control you possessed while asleep, it was easy to refuse.” He replied. “I don’t…” He trailed off, sighing wistfully before continuing. “I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“Suddenly he _doesn’t_ want to take advantage of an Altean. Really, I’m shocked.” She deadpanned. He gave her a withering glare. Lotor’s pang of disappointment hit her, but she sensed that he didn’t intend to address this comment quite yet.

“I’m… also in control when I’m awake.” He explained.

He must have sensed the curiosity that she didn’t voice, so he continued. “When this first began, I also thought it was simply a dream. I thought I was longing for what could have been.” Lotor’s jaw clenched,, and Allura felt a burst of heat that isn’t her own bloom through her chest. It felt like anger, hatred, frustration, but there was an underlying tinge of passion and desire. “That is, until I woke up with these.” He turned, pulling his hair to the side and the back of his shirt upward, revealing a toned back and… _scars._ Claw marks marred the purple expanse if his skin, four on each side that curved outwards from the center like wings.

Allura glanced down at her hands. She’d made those. She’d been so drunk on the pleasure, on the feeling of _him_. The memory sends a jolt of heat down her spine and straight to her core.

He let his shirt slide back down, straightening to stand at his full height and turning to face her again. His eyes carried a trace of knowing when they met hers again and she blushed when she realized that he must have felt her memory pulsing through her.

“Galra need less sleep than most races. I’ve been forgoing it to keep myself in check.”

She noted the darker violet circles under his eyes then. He’d been awake just as long as she had been.

“And what will happen when you finally succumb to sleep?” Allura asked. “You’ll have to eventually.”

Lotor sighed. “There’s a solution in the works. My _mother_ ,” he spat the word disdainfully, “is aware of the bond we share and is working to sever it as soon as she discovers what is causing it.”

Allura felt a mix of relief and fear. While she was overjoyed to know that Haggar chose not to take advantage of the bond, she couldn’t help but wonder what she would do if she failed to sever it. She wondered what would happen if she managed to succeed.

“Would severing it be… painful?”

Lotor shakes his head. “I don’t know.”

They sat in silence for a while before Lotor asked, “How are you so in-control this time?”

Allura tilted her head, puzzled, before she remembered that she was presently asleep.

“I have help.” She didn’t intend to elaborate. Conversing was not a priority; sleep was. Dealing with Lotor was an unpleasant side effect.

“I’m merely curious. If I could duplicate whatever you’re doing right now, it might save you from dealing with what may happen if I accidentally fall asleep.” The statement was punctuated by a yawn. “I’m rather at the end of my rope.” Never had a simple yawn felt so much like a threat.

“I swear to the Ancients, Lotor, if you try to seduce me in your sleep from this point on you’ll be missing a very important part of your anatomy.”

Lotor snorted, “It would only be fair. You showed in my quarters dripping wet in more ways than one –”

“Hold your tongue, you _vile_ excuse for an Altean!” She meant to sound dangerous and threatening, but instead she squeaked the words out. Allura didn’t want to think about her behavior earlier today.

Lotor’s face went stony and Allura knew that she’d landed a pretty hard blow.

Good. He deserved it for what he did to her people.

Lotor’s handsome features twisted into a snarl and Allura realized that he’d heard her thought.

“You still don’t know the full story, do you?”

She was aware enough to notice that stray thread that lifted up out of his mind. There was something he wanted her to see. It tempted her. She wanted to pull at it out of pure curiosity but her fear gave her pause.

“Whenever you’re ready, it’s there.” He said, not waiting for her answer to his question. “I’d say it has a bit more information than the tale your ignorant little friend wove.” He added harshly, before a wall slammed down between them. Even through his mental barrier, she could still sense that dangling little thread, begging her to pluck it.

 

* * *

 

 

“Romelle!” Allura called out to the blonde Altean, who sat in the shade of a tree in one of the Garrison’s courtyards.

“Princess.” Romelle said, nodding to Allura. Her voice was a little tight, her movements stiff. “Prince Lotor isn’t… around… is he?”

Allura shook her head.

“No. He’s shut me out.”

Romelle gave an approving grin, relaxing a bit then.

“May I sit?” Allura asked. Romelle patted the grass beside her in offering.

“I… I don’t want to cause you any discomfort.” Allura said once she’d sat down, cross-legged, on the ground.

Romelle’s eyes narrowed, but she allowed Allura to continue speaking.

“Can you tell me once more the story of the colony? I was in the rift when you first told the Paladins.”

Romelle bit her lip at the request. “Lotor didn’t put you up to this, did he?”

_Yes._

“No.” Allura lied. Why was she protecting him? Why was she even humoring him for this one thing?

“I’m simply curious. He’s been telling me so many things and I wanted to hear the truth from you once more.”

Allura swore she saw a sliver of fear in Romelle’s eyes when she mentioned that Lotor had been trying to convey his side of the story. Was she worried about a hole in her own story?

Romelle sat for a while, trying to formulate her words before launching into the tale.

“During his exile, Lotor traveled the galaxy looking for all of the Alteans who had been offworld when the planet was destroyed. He gathered them together and created a colony, ruling over them for thousands of years. He began taking Alteans from my colony to a second, separate colony generations before I was born. He said it was to increase the odds for our survival and forbid all methods of communication. My mother, father, and my brother, Bandor were all taken.” She had to pause there, and Allura could see the moisture in her eyes threatening to overflow. “One night, though, I got a transmission through a communicator Bandor had gifted me before he departed for the colony. Bandor had crashed in the forest not too far from our village, and he was emaciated and withered. He told me that Lotor and the Colony were all a lie before dying in my arms.” She took a deep breath and leaned back into the tree behind her.

Allura couldn’t see any issue with the story. It was the one she’d come to know. Romelle knew what was happening. It had been happening for years before she was even born.

And suddenly, Allura understood why Lotor wanted her to think more about this. Romelle might have known that Alteans were being taken and drained and that it had been going on for years. Everyone knew that much. But what if there was something she didn’t know about the history of this practice? No one tried to hear his side of the story once they’d come to the conclusion that he was a liar. Romelle didn’t know what could have gone on behind the scenes. She _couldn’t_. She was born _generations_ after Lotor began taking Alteans.

Allura stood quickly, bidding Romelle a quick goodbye before racing to her chambers. She needed privacy for this.

She sat on her bed, sought after the memory that Lotor had offered, and tugged at its thread.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you liked it with a comment! You can also find me on tumblr(or what's left of it) and pillowfort. My username on both is TheNumberFour


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